


Black Cat- Lost Ideals, Lost Cause, Skips The School

by AdrenalineRevolver



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Ami Montparnasse, Animal Transformation, Fairy Tale Elements, M/M, Tall Jehan, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 04:49:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18113627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdrenalineRevolver/pseuds/AdrenalineRevolver
Summary: Montparnasse runs afoul of the wrong old woman and finds himself in a very hairy situation. One that he alone won't be able to escape.





	Black Cat- Lost Ideals, Lost Cause, Skips The School

**Author's Note:**

> Title is based off the world's greatest image.  
> https://66.media.tumblr.com/28679bcc50e6e869d7aca11443fe597c/tumblr_pneolwoXln1u9ujuwo1_1280.png

Montparnasse stretched as he woke. He felt fantastically rested for once. Usually something was sore or tired from the night’s business. 

It was only when he opened his eyes to see his now gigantic bed did he realize something was very wrong. When he tried to sit up he found that his arms were preposterously long and more worryingly, they ended in fluffy paws. Even the little claws that came out of them when he flexed his hand were just that, little.

It had to be the work of that old woman who mumbled something about ‘teaching him a lesson’ when he called her out for purposefully scaring off a mark by pretending to be madder than she was. He had been rather gracious with her if he recalled. He could have easily slit her throat and been done with it. He should have just ended her then and there.

“Wretched bitch!” To his horror it came out as a distressed mewl. He had to make it to the mirror to see what she’d done to him. The bed sheets seemed unending and he kept losing his balance under them but he eventually managed to poke his head out from under the sea of fabric. His jaw dropped when he beheld what he had become. 

A kitten. 

That goddamned witch had turned him into a pathetic kitten. He would kill her. 

Seeing his tiny ears flatten against his head and hearing himself hiss at nothing was demoralizing at best. 

It was a task to get to down from his bed. In theory it wasn’t that far down, it just felt tremendous. The instinct to cry out for help was almost overwhelming though he knew none would come. 

With a truly heavy heart he clung to his sheets and slid to the floor. His expensive sheets that truly deserved better treatment than being used to repel but he was left with no other options.

Escaping his own flat was a pain as well; nothing in this world was made for him anymore. In the end he had to squeeze under the door and ended up falling down just as many stairs as he was able to descend. 

The sight that greeted him when he made it to the outside door nearly pushed him to tears. 

It was raining. 

Of course it was raining. Why wouldn’t it be? He wouldn’t be surprised if Paris burned around him just for the sake of inconveniencing him.

With a deep sigh and a heavy heart he slipped into the ally. He quickly found that most only glanced at him, even if he was so close that their coats partially shielded him from the rain. A few would look at him like he was disgusting; turn up their noses like he was some rat. He made careful note of their faces. Others smiled as he passed yet wouldn’t touch him. 

He made his way through the city looking for the old woman who had cursed him when a growl caught his ear. Some feral dog was prowling about. It was probably growling at some poor kid who was sleeping in its favorite spot. He’d been there. Poor wretch thinks he’s found a safe place to curl up out of a storm only to find a pair of snarling teeth in his face when he wakes.

His heart stopped as he realized how great a threat that actually was. It was a great enough danger as a child. But now? Without pausing to look Montparnasse took off as fast as his tiny legs would carry him in the opposite direction. He wouldn’t end his life as some mongrel’s chew toy if he had anything to say about it. 

By his estimate he had only covered maybe a mile before his legs gave out from under him. Panting and heart racing, he couldn’t move any further. If it was truly him the dog was after he wouldn’t have much longer.

Montparnasse wasn’t given the kindness of a warning when a hand wrapped itself around him and lifted him off the wet ground. He flailed and spit trying to defend himself but it was no use, he could barely keep his eyes open.

“You poor thing.” He sounded truly heartbroken. “What are you doing out in this weather?” The man brought Montparnasse close to his chest and Montparnasse’s nose was flooded with a mix of strange spices and delicate flowers. “You’re shaking. Is your mother near by?” He stroked the top of Montparnasse’s head. 

His mother. He didn’t let himself think of her often. His ‘no’ became a distressed, breathless, mew that he allowed to be muffled by the shirt beneath him.

“That dog I saw on the way here…” The man held him a little tighter and began walking. “I’m so sorry.” 

He apologized as if he was speaking to a human that he suspected had just been orphaned and nearly lost their own life rather than a cat. Honestly, he spoke in a kinder way to Montparnasse when he thought him some street cat than Montparnasse had ever received when he actually was a child living in much the same way. Or even recently.

Somewhere between his musings, the warmth, and the sound of the rain Montparnasse found himself falling asleep in this stranger’s arms. 

When Montparnasse awoke again it was to the sound of a busy café. 

“What have you got there, Jehan?” One of the men, one nursing a wine bottle, asked. 

“A small citizen in dire need.” The man that rescued him, Jehan as Montparnasse assumed, opened his coat a little to show the others. “It collapsed in the rain.”

“Is it ill?” While most had an expression of fondness, one with a cane near to him seemed nervous. 

“Maybe, it was panting when it collapsed and I saw a dog in the area not long before though.” Jehan looked down at him in worry.

Their leader, a man Montparnasse vaguely recognized, strode across the floor. He was smaller than Jehan, then again most seemed to be, yet he took up the room in a way that no physical size could hope to. He stared at Montparnasse with such intensity that Montparnasse was nearly certain that he was aware of his true nature. He reached forward and his touch was surprisingly delicate as he scratched behind Montparnasse’s ear. “May I?”

Montparnasse most assuredly didn’t want to be handed over to this man, unexpectedly gentle or no. Though he didn’t exactly have any say. 

“Be careful Enjolras, it’s not entirely tame.” Jehan unhooked Montparnasse’s tiny claws and handed him over. 

Montparnasse found himself unable to keep from spitting at the man when he took him. He was just too…much. 

Enjolras just laughed, like the rest of him it was bright. “Fire comes in all sizes.” He was careful as he looked into Montparnasse’s mouth and ears; he even leaned away so Montparnasse couldn’t get him with his back claws when he lifted him. 

“It looks to be in excellent condition for a feral cat. No fleas, no ticks, no external signs of any issues at all. I would say he was just exhausted. The best thing to do for him now is to dry him off and help him raise his body temperature to where it’s meant to be.” He took off his cravat and proceeded to wipe away some of the water. Montparnasse growled and bit the fabric for no other reason than to be a problem.

When Enjolras noticed a few confused looks he explained. “My aunt breeds cats. I never cared much for it, though you learn.” 

“Do you think he’ll be alright?” Jehan offered to take him back and smiled when Montparnasse weakly scrambled to get back to someone familiar. 

“Well he seems to be somewhere around four weeks or so and they’re quite-“ Enjolras was quickly interrupted by a not exactly subtle movement from a curly haired dandy. 

“Did you see the way he attacked? I’m sure he’ll be just fine!” When Jehan glanced down at Montparnasse the dandy threw a glare at Enjolras that he seemed to take a moment to process. It seemed apparent to Montparnasse that his assessment of this Enjolras was dead-on, even his companions needed to filter him at times. He knew how that could be, you simply state the truth and suddenly you’ve caused some problem because someone didn’t wish to hear it. 

“Why the very first thing he did when he realized he was safe was tell Enjolras to piss off! It even took Grantaire a while before he could do such a thing!” A rather loud, yet well-dressed man raised a drink in their direction. Montparnasse wondered if it was his newly superior hearing that made him so startling or if he was just that boisterous. 

“At this age kittens begin eating trying to eat meat so he shouldn’t go hungry.” A young man with glasses offered. “I’m sure he’ll be alright.” 

“Combeferre is right. There’s a butcher shop I know of that sells this late not far from my apartment. Last I looked I think the man even had venison. Perhaps it will appeal to his more wild instincts.” The curly haired dandy offered.

Montparnasse sat up quickly enough that he very nearly lost his balance. Who were these people? Meat that wasn’t only better than day old pig fat but something as pricy and difficult to obtain as venison? Montparnasse hadn’t even seen that in a shop window before, he would have remembered because he would have stolen it. He lets out a series of excited meows as he tries to enthusiastically agree that that’s the only thing he will think about eating.

“You see? The mere suggestion has him coming around.” Combeferre pointed out.

Jehan laughed and pet the top of his head. “You like that idea?”

Montparnasse hated that he was lowering himself to this but he meowed intentionally. 

“If we hurry we could get something before it closes, Combeferre would you like to come with me?” The young man offers. 

Combeferre glanced at Enjolras who nodded. “If you don’t go he’ll buy something we don’t need and stay gone all night.” 

“You wound me.” He put his hand on his chest. 

“Try to be back by the end of the meeting, Courfeyrac, don’t starve the little one.” Enjolras looked somewhere between exasperated and fond. These diversions were likely common.

“I would never.” Courfeyrac leaned against the wall dramatically before heading out. Combeferre followed close behind. 

“Now, lets try to have no other interruptions.” Enjolras launched into a speech that Montparnasse wasn’t interested in listening to.

He stared at Jehan’s quill as it moved across his paper. It was strangely fascinating. He wanted to touch it. It was a green-feathered thing with a bright blue eye. A peacock, he had seen one when he was younger.

It’s owner had it shipped to Paris before taking it to the countryside. When Montparnasse had jumped the wall for a better look his original plan of eating the thing was completely dashed. He’d watched it until he was very nearly caught by it’s owner. 

However this feeling was different. He wasn’t quite enchanted so much as he was excited. Something about the jerky movements of the feather reminded him of the moments before a job. The hesitation. The excitement.

He grabbed the feather and pulled it to his mouth without a second thought. 

Soft laughter and the unpleasant sensation of having a mouth stuffed with feather shook him from his trance. Oh good god he had been playing. Just how much of him was this damned cat?

“A harsh critic you are.” Jehan scratched the top of his head while Montparnasse had his existential crisis.

At some point his thoughts drifted to the fingers that were now working under his chin. They were almost nice enough to make up for the fact that he was an instinctual beast. 

“Ah, I knew you could purr.” Jehan noted. “You just needed the motivation.”

Montparnasse’s eyes flew open in rage but he could do nothing about the noise. He was an assassin! The terror of Paris! He did not purr! 

Yet here he was. Purring.

He didn’t even want the cause to end badly enough to try and rid this man of his fingers. He would just, have to accept that there were certain trades to be made in this body. 

He would just be certain to kill the old woman for this. Her last moments would be in agony.

Combeferre and Courfeyrac arrived some time after Montparnasse dozed off. 

“I know it took a bit longer than expected.” Combeferre sighed. “Courfeyrac spotted something that was…a necessity.” 

“Behold!” Courfeyrac held something small and black aloft in the air. “A doll in a window we passed was wearing it and I simply knew that this little gentleman would need it!”

Montparnasse yawned and stared to get a better look. When it occurred to him that the loud little student was holding a top hat he kept his mouth open. 

“Thankfully he refrained from buying the rest of the suit. I wouldn’t want to outright torture the poor thing.” Combeferre seemed exhausted yet amused all the same. 

“I’m sure he’ll love it.” Courfeyrac set it on his head. 

Montparnasse found the sensation of the hat resting between his ears both familiar and odd all the same. Balancing it took a bit of conscious thought but he was happy to have at least something familiar.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a cat be so tolerant of such a thing.” Jehan placed him on the table and watched him as he carefully sat down. 

“Why it’s table manners.” One of the men grinned. “He knows that dinner is close behind.” Montparnasse could smell the wine on his breath from here.

“And he’s not wrong.” Courfeyrac set a cloth on the table. “I hope he doesn’t mind smoked meat, he just seemed too excited about sinking his fangs into deer that I couldn’t pass it up.” 

“I’m not sure if a cat would…” Enjolras trailed off. 

Montparnasse took particular joy in ripping through the cloth and biting into the meat. Perhaps it was the shift in his biology or perhaps it was the fact that he hadn’t eaten all day but he could swear it was the best thing he had ever eaten. As he gnawed at the meat he found himself tempted to growl at the nearest hand because clearly this food was meant for him. 

“Little killer would probably eat anything at this point.” The louder one from before reached over to pet him and Montparnasse smacked his hand before he could stop himself. He just laughed and assumed a playful boxing stance as Montparnasse bit back a growl. “A challenge then?”

“Bahorel, you are absolutely not allowed to fight a cat.” The one that Montparnasse actually recognized sighed. Feuilly? 

“Seconded.” Enjolras added as he went back to his notes. 

“He issued the challenge.” Bahorel went back to watching from a safe distance with a grin. 

Jehan laid his head on his arms and watched. “Ah but from his perspective you made an attempt on his food. I’d smack at you as well if I hadn’t eaten all day either.”

“You know, if he is so fond of that hat perhaps he would also be tolerant of boxing gloves.” Bahorel barely got the words out of his mouth before Courfeyrac gasped at the idea. 

“What if we dressed him as Marianne?” Courfeyrac glanced around the room as if he could find the outfit.

At this Enjolras looked up. “Dressing a cat as the personification of the republic?” 

“A struggling orphan from the streets of Paris having to fight for his meals. His being rescued by our dear friend and inevitable success will be symbolic!” Bahorel agreed.

Enjolras and Montparnasse both sighed. “So long as it doesn’t take away from important matters.”

“A whole revolution derailed by a kitten. Here I had been trying my best and I simply wasn’t furry enough.” The man from before raised his bottle of wine to Enjolras in a mock toast only to have it taken from him. 

“I’d say you’ve had enough, Grantaire.” Enjolras looked pleased with himself until Grantaire pulled a spare bottle out from under his seat. 

Montparnasse remained focused mainly on his dinner as meeting progressed. At some point his measurements were taken and he only growled the tiniest amount as he was handled.

Alas, all good things must come to an end and Montparnasse eventually ran out of meat to tear through. A true shame. Though it was oddly exhausting to eat so much. 

He made his way over to Jehan who was too focused on his writing to notice him. 

Unacceptable.

He flopped down on the journal to ensure that he was properly appreciated. 

“Oh!” He jumped. “I take it you’re done with dinner?”

Montparnasse stretched out and yawned. 

Jehan scratched at his side. “That ink wasn’t quite dry you know. You’re going to smear it everywhere and make it illegible.”

He purred. 

“Ah so you’re an asemic writer then? How bold and abstract of you.” Jehan scratched behind the ear before pausing. “You know, that might be fascinating. A poem on behalf of a cat, yet still written in it’s hand. It would be up to the reader to decide what the cat is writing an ode to.”

He would have hummed in tired agreement but it came out as a little chirp.

“A fascinating little muse you are.” Jehan lifted him and placed him in his lap. 

Montparnasse wanted to be frustrated with being moved but this was more comfortable anyway. He nearly dozed off with Jehan petting him as he wrote. 

“He’s still wearing his little hat.” He heard a strangled voice whisper as he fell asleep. 

Walking home was a touch stressful. Yes, the coat was warm however it was still raining and Montparnasse really would rather not get wet again. 

Jehan picked up a purple flower on his way home and offered it to Montparnasse. “Are you a fond of lavender?”

It was pleasant enough though it was wet from the rain. 

The flower girl he purchased it from made a gasp and asked if she could pet him. Montparnasse sighed when Jehan agreed. The girl was lucky her hands weren’t soaking. 

Jehan’s apartment smelled like a florist shop where someone had been making spiced tea. Roses, mint, thyme, rosemary and jasmine hit Montparnasse all at once. It wasn’t quite overwhelming however he had no doubt it could be.

“Here you go.” Jehan set him down on the bed. “This will likely be more to your liking than the table.” He then laughs. “Oh, let me take your hat sir.” He takes the top hat off Montparnasse and sets it down on the bedside table. “Courfeyrac would be thrilled to know that you kept it on all evening.”

Montparnasse flopped down on the bed and yawned once again. 

“My sentiments exactly.” Jehan set the lavender on the bed before turning and heading towards his wardrobe. 

Montparnasse jumped when Jehan took off his coat. Oh! Yes, he was going to change. It seemed ridiculous to be so flustered by such a thing however given that Jehan didn’t know the entirety of the situation it made Montparnasse feel as if he were peeping. He chose to stare at the purple flower to keep his eyes occupied, he smacked at it absent-mindedly. 

“There.” Jehan said to no one in particular.

He jumped when he looked up to see the ugly dressing gown. It appeared as if a sultan’s curtains had been stolen and made into a banyan. A brilliant red with various flowers embroidered upon it. It was a shame; Montparnasse had seen them in far more flattering colors for the man. Though it was quite well made. Well made enough that Montparnasse couldn’t justify shredding it to save him. 

This man was a Russian doll of bad fashion choices. 

“I’ll let you sleep on the bed tonight. But if you misbehave you’ll have to sleep in the chair.” Jehan warned as he sat next to Montparnasse. “I also need to give you a worthy name.” He thought for a moment. “Perhaps Byron?”

Montparnasse would apparently suffer many things but not being called something he didn’t agree with. He reached over and smacked Jehan’s hand. Montparnasse was certain it couldn’t hurt him but he jumped like he had been shot. 

He held his hand to his chest and looked at Montparnasse for a moment. “Shelley?”

Montparnasse smacked his leg this time.

Jehan just stared down at him before picking him up swiftly enough that Montparnasse made an undignified squeak. “Do you truly have an issue with these names? And have opinions on them? Mew if you do.”

Montparnasse would have rather not but meowed all the same. 

“Either I’ve lost my mind entirely…or you’re something truly special.” Jehan scratched behind his ear. “I haven’t a clue which is more likely. In the morning I shall find your name then.” He set Montparnasse back down gently. “We can comb through books and should you see it you tell me. Or point to it. However you can.”

Montparnasse nodded, or rather did his best to. Jehan gave an excited laugh before petting him once more and rushed over to his desk. He’s not sure when Jehan tired of writing but at some point in the night Jehan collapsed beside him. 

It wasn’t very difficult to find Montparnasse’s name. The first map of Paris Montparnasse saw he began to paw at it and it only took a few minutes to figure out that ‘Montparnasse’ was his intention. There was a part of him that expected to be freed when Jehan said it, yet nothing happened. 

Moreover, Jehan found it necessary to still attend his classes leaving Montparnasse alone again. Yes there was the promise of his return and the conversation that came with it yet it was boring to wait. It quickly became lonely as well. 

From the window he could slip out onto the roof and watch the street below. It was oddly nostalgic; the last time he had used the roves of Paris as a perch to simply stare had been when he was a child. Now when he was this high it was because he was either fleeing capture or seeking to break into a building. 

Jehan’s neighborhood was nice, well kept gardens and the smell of a distant bakery made it all the nicer, but it wasn’t impervious to the realities of the world. A pair of gamines slipped by well-dressed aristocrats trying not to be noticed. As if they could be any more invisible than they already were. 

This became his routine. Each morning after Jehan would leave Montparnasse would slip out and do his best to entertain himself on the rooftops until Jehan returned. 

On some secret nights Jehan would bring him to one of his meetings, meetings that Montparnasse almost looked forward to despite how pointless they were. He even wore his hat. Over time he learned the names of all the young men that he knew were most likely doomed for their foolish ideas. Like Jehan they were all kind-hearted and well intentioned. It was a shame they were trying for something so pointless as equality. 

Grantaire seemed to understand. He had much the same reservations and criticisms as Montparnasse yet he arrived every single chance he got. No doubt he was here for someone rather than something. 

At some point he gave up looking for the old woman. Any attempts would just get him lost or killed. His humanity and all the ambitions with it were lost. As lost as the lives he had taken. As lost as the students when their revolution comes. As lost as everything else in this world. 

He was sure that the only thing keeping abject despair from setting in was Jehan speaking to him as if he could possibly speak back. Reading his poetry aloud as he asked for inspiration. Being treated as if he were still someone. 

He’s not certain when he developed feelings for Jehan but if he had to guess it was likely they day that only one gamine made her journey up Jehan’s street. When Jehan noticed this he actually spoke to the girl. Then he left with her. 

A sickly girl who probably weighed half of what she was meant to spent a week sleeping on Jehan’s couch before he agreed that she was well enough to leave. He never once questioned the girl to see if she would steal anything while he was out. The same kindness that had been given to him was given to her without question. While Montparnasse would have preferred being alone seeing him give so freely was quite...charming. 

He was certain he had these feelings when Jehan became interested in someone. Montparnasse never cared to remember their name. His poetry became a bit more flowery; he talked about how kind they were, how helpful to the cause. Montparnasse wanted to rip it all to shreds. He didn’t allow himself to. 

If he was under the impression that the gift of a flower was kind he would astonished by what Montparnasse wanted to give him. If he thought that some gunpowder was true commitment he should see the carbines and mercenaries that Montparnasse had access to. Montparnasse could bring the man a cannon if he pulled enough strings! He only needed his voice to be given back to him!

Jehan mentioned that he was going out to meet this person one night and Montparnasse debated the merits of flinging himself out the window. He didn’t think anything in the flat was poisonous to cats otherwise he would have started eating all of it he could. Knowing his luck none of that would succeed in killing him. 

Jehan took his dramatic sighing as frustration with being ignored. So he assured him he’d be back by dawn. 

He wasn’t. 

The moment Montparnasse began to see daylight he panicked. Jehan wasn’t one to go against a promise, even if it was something as simple as when he’d return home. 

He leapt to the window’s ledge and scrambled to the rooftop. Running along the rooftops of Paris on such small legs was a danger all it’s own but he had to make it to the café in the hopes that one of Jehan’s companions would be there. Courfeyrac would notice him immediately. Combeferre would believe him when he tried to indicate that something was wrong. Any of the morons would be helpful. Even screaming at Enjolras would do something. 

He nearly slid off the tiles when he he noticed a familiar figure sneaking through the early dawn. 

Hunched over with her shawl hiding strange, judgmental, eyes. It was the old woman, the witch! 

She would be perfect help! Maybe she could even understand him! He could tell her exactly where Jehan had gone and she could curse the bastard that was keeping him. 

Montparnasse slid down the gutter with little regard for his safety and made a dash for her skirt. 

“Hag!” He yelled as he climbed up her skirt. “A spy for the national guard has lured an innocent man to the riverside! No doubt to torture him!” He continued to yell when he reached her shoulder. “The man’s comrades meet at the café Musain and they’ll drop anything to help him! Use your magics!”

The woman grinned to herself. “It is good to see you too, brat. What does that man see in such a rude little thing?”

“There’s no time for this! A good man could die!” Montparnasse growled. 

“A good man is already dead.” She didn’t seem to care in the slightest as she delivered such heart-shattering news. “I could change this.”

“Then do so, you old bitch!” He demanded without hesitation. 

She pried Montparnasse off her shoulder and held him in front of her. “I can’t change you as well.” Her eyes shone with mischief.

Montparnasse’s eyes widened. Yes, he had resigned himself to likely being like this for life but truly? He could have everything back. But the cost would be Jehan. Jehan, who didn’t hesitate to help him. Jehan, who didn’t hesitate to help that girl. Who wrote such beautiful things. Who truly deserved to live and was wasting it on the world that didn’t deserve him. 

Jehan was beautiful, all of him, inside and out, and he extended that beauty to the world around him, he gave it freely. 

All Montparnasse could do was hoard beauty, hide it away so only he could have it. 

Of all the things he’d ever done it would be the most loathsome and damnable to trade such a soul for his own. Even if he wouldn’t need to pick up a blade. 

“Save him. Please. He’s done no wrong. This is a man that would call you and your powers beautiful. He writes in such a way that would make Keats wish he could raise himself from the dead. He’s built like a man that would be paid anything for his strength yet I’ve never once seen him hurt a soul. He won’t even last long if it’s something you must maintain, he intends to fight in his group’s upcoming rebellion and history may claim him then but not now. Not before he’s brought real beauty to this world.” Montparnasse went limp as he realized he’s trading his entire life for what may be only months. 

“You will die a cat for this?” The woman asked.

“I would spend my entire life as this for him to have another day.” His tail swished with anxiety.

The woman cackled and dropped him in her basket. “A slow learning brat you are. But apparently you can learn.”

“And your end of the deal?” He wanted to be angry with her but forced himself to bite his tongue for Jehan’s sake.

“You’ll see.” She threw her shawl over the basket to cover him. 

Montparnasse clawed at the thing to pull it away and demand she do as she swore to. He would force her even if it meant biting out her damned eyes!

“Oh stuck in a sea of blankets are we?” A familiar voice made Montparnasse freeze. 

Jehan pulled the blankets away making Montparnasse realize he was in bed. It was as if nothing happened. 

“I know, I’m back a bit early.” He sighed and sat beside Montparnasse. His eyes were red-rimmed though he was otherwise unharmed. “He never showed up.” 

He stared for a moment before clamoring into Jehan’s lap and purring as loudly as he could. 

“You’re just the sweetest thing.” Jehan scratched behind his ear. “Combeferre was likely right, I trusted him too quickly.”

Montparnasse leaned into his hand and sighed. 

“What would you say if I did away with romance and made myself a spinster at this age? You treat me just as kindly as any lover should anyway.” Jehan laughed and it was the most wonderful sound Montparnasse had ever heard. “Should anyone ask I’d simply say I’m my cat’s mistress.”

He didn’t think he could purr much louder but he tried anyway. 

Jehan leaned down and kissed the top of his head. “I love you.”

Montparnasse wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. He just chirped in response and made certain to curl up on Jehan’s chest when they lay down to sleep. His heartbeat was a blessing. 

In the morning Jehan hopped up as if he was late. Montparnasse supposed he must be if today was a day he had classes. Then again his attendance was always perfect. 

“No. Come back.” He stretched out as he whined, he knew it would come across as just meows but he was used to saying what he felt. “Spend the day with me. Your lecturer is boring and yesterday was awful. You deserve a day off.” 

The lack of a response was strange. 

His heart stilled, it hadn’t been a dream, had it? Jehan was alive, wasn’t he? 

Montparnasse clumsily sat up and looked around the room. “Jehan?” 

Jehan was indeed alive; he was also staring at Montparnasse in mixture of confusion and terror. 

It was about this moment that Montparnasse noticed that his arms were far too short. They were also far too cold. 

He looked down to see that he was human. There were slight alterations to his appearance, his nails were slightly too sharp and he could still hear as well as he could the night before, yet he was human. 

“…Montparnasse?” Jehan whispered, not quite believing what he was seeing.

He looked up quickly. “Don’t panic.” He wrapped the blankets around himself when he realized he wasn’t wearing anything, using his hands again was a clumsy affair but the memory was still present. “I won’t hurt you. I’d never.”

“No wonder you wanted to keep your name.” Jehan took a careful step forward. “It was all you had left.”

“Other than your kindness.” Montparnasse added.

“How did you become this? How did you turn back?” Jehan’s face quickly matched his hair as he blushed. “Is it because I kissed you last night?” As he got more involved in his questioning his previous trepidation was completely abandoned, soon he was kneeling on the bed. “Can you enter both forms of your own free will?”

He was forced to laugh at Jehan’s excitement. He couldn’t help it. “I ran afoul of a witch. She claimed I needed to learn something. I don’t know much else.” 

Montparnasse knew it was vain but he strained to look in Jehan’s mirror when he had the chance. He was almost exactly the same as he had been before he had changed, as if the entire thing had been imagined. Except for his eyes. Two sharp amber eyes stared back at him. They were the same color as his cat form had had. He suspected the witch made certain of that. A bit of a reminder. 

“A witch? What was she like?” Jehan glanced at his desk for a moment.

“Cruel yet strangely benevolent.” Montparnasse waved his hand. “Go get your journal if you’d like.” 

He seemed to think about it before moving closer. “I can later.” Jehan laid back down beside him. “First I think I’d like to try that plan of yours.”

Montparnasse looked down at Jehan and blushed. “You’d like to…” It sounded so needy and ridiculous now that he knew he had been understood. 

“To spend the day with you. You have your days mixed up anyway. I don’t have any classes until tomorrow.” He seemed almost as comfortable as he had been the night before.

“Oh good.” Montparnasse tried to maintain some sense of dignity as he laid back down. He was suddenly all too aware of the fact that he wasn’t wearing anything at the moment. 

“What lesson was so important that you had to become a feline to learn it?” Jehan stared at Montparnasse’s hair for a moment as if thinking about reaching out and stroking it the way he had before.

He toyed with a strand of Jehan’s hair. “Many things. Abasement. Acceptance. Agathusia. An entire dictionary of things.”

“Do you believe you’ve learned what you needed?” Jehan asked.

“I am a terrible student, though I do have thumbs again.” He twirled the hair around his fingers to prove it. “You should rest. Tonight we have many arrangements to make. Carbines for your ridiculous friends, a canon to hide in your café, and mercenaries should be a good start. It might take time as my contacts no doubt suspect me dead.”

Jehan raised an eyebrow and sat up.

“Well you did say you would be your cat’s mistress last night. To do that I must keep you alive.” Montparnasse sighed. “Which also means I must become a revolutionary.” His dejection was only momentary. He sat up like a shot when something occurred to him. “If the castle is stormed successfully its contents will be lost to the chaos just as they were last time.” He glanced around the room as if genius had struck him. “Enjolras can have the king’s head and I can have his _hats_.”

Soft laughter distracted him. “So you are Montparnasse the assassin, I thought it may be you when you showed me your name.” 

“I...” He pulled the sheets up to cover his chest again as if they could hide the truth. “Yet you didn’t set me out? Surely word of my disappearance got out.” 

“It did.” Jehan admitted. Montparnasse couldn’t help but wonder how much he had suspected and when.

A shiver went down his spine. “You could have done Paris a favor with a swift motion.”

“No more than I could have done that to an actual kitten.” Jehan pushed a stray hair of Montparnasse’s behind his ear. “Paris was already safer. Now you seem to be intent on your claws for good.”

“A selfish good.” Montparnasse leaned into his hand as he always had. “Would you stop me if I did differently?”

“Absolutely.” He smiled despite his grim assurance. 

“Good.” He gave into his impulses and relaxed on Jehan’s chest. It seemed too comfortable not to. The familiar scents of herbs and flowers were still there, just muted. “Wake me when you’re ready for brunch.”

Jehan informed him later that he still purred in his sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tentative second chapter planned but I have to finish my other wips before I do it.  
> Also I was worried that Montparnasse yawns and naps way too much in this but then I watched my cat for like twenty minutes and that's all the twit would do.


End file.
